


Le Beau au bois dormant

by yujacheong



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fade to Black, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/pseuds/yujacheong
Summary: Anakin and Obi-Wan, huddling for warmth.It’s not intentional. There is always a respectful distance between them, at least in the beginning. But as the darkness gathers and the cold intrudes, the empty space between their two bodies gradually lessens, and then lessens some more, andmore– until they are pressed up against one another.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86
Collections: Party in the GFFA: Star Wars Flash Exchange 2020





	Le Beau au bois dormant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akingnotaprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akingnotaprincess/gifts).



This is how it always happens.

Another miserable campaign on another miserable backwater world. An interminable series of miserable days of desperate battles, some of which they might actually win. Win or lose the reward is the same: absolutely no accommodation worth the five-syllable word for rest during their weary nights.

They usually end up bedding down right on the unforgiving ground. If they’re fortunate, there is some means to build a campfire and soft vegetation to cushion their backs. If they’re not, there is nothing. Any kind of precipitation or, just as bad, waterlogged soil, becomes added punishment, and the cold seeps straight into the bones.

Anakin hates being cold.

It’s not intentional. There is always a respectful distance between them, at least in the beginning. But as the darkness gathers and the cold intrudes, the empty space between their two bodies gradually lessens, and then lessens some more, and _more_ – until they are pressed up against one another.

So close that it might as well be an embrace. Anakin wakes and throws an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. They nestle even closer together; Anakin savors Obi-Wan’s familiar scent. His sleep, though, continues uninterrupted, and his slow, even breaths are warm and moist against Anakin’s cheek.

Anakin kisses him.

Obi-Wan’s lips are dry and slightly chapped, and the neatly trimmed facial hair is ticklish. None of it matters, for Obi-Wan does not wake. Anakin’s tongue dips into Obi-Wan’s mouth to taste him. Ah, he tastes so good! Further encouraged, he slips a hand between them, the prosthetic touch receptors sensitive enough to detect the beat of Obi-Wan’s heart, the rush of air and out of his lungs. Obi-Wan does not wake. His hand slides lower, sweeping over the flat expanse of the belly, and lower, to cup and fondle the already swollen budge beneath –

Desire surges. He can’t resist, can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispers hotly.

This is how it always happens.


End file.
